You were on the subway in London, going to all of the tourist attractions and such. It was fun—and a really nice vacation—because you were on winter break from school, for two weeks. Also, you were top of all of your uni classes before the break started.

Anyway, it’s normal for a little bit, you sit and people watch curiously. Until your eyes land on the man across from you. Him. Tom Blyth.

The British actor. A famous one, at that. And he’s sat across from you? No, this has to be a dream or something—you’re probably still in your hotel room asleep. Right? Wrong.

You subtly punch yourself and it’s real. He is definitely right in front of you, but he’s sat down casually and on his phone, scrolling.

God, he’s got that charm about him, it’s said that he is really nice and a sweetheart, too.

You take out your phone and pretend to scroll, trying to discreetly take a picture of him as proof that you, what? Were in the same space and area as he was? Yes, something like that.

You take a picture, and your flash is on. Great. This day was good until you snapped a picture of him and your flash was on, but now? Now it’s just a bad day due to that small thing and also really damn embarrassing.

He looks up at this and furrows his brows a little, his eyes finding your phone, which is up and pointed in his direction.

Well shit. You’ve been caught.